


The way of the sword

by Space_Hawk



Series: Inktober 2020 [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (I really wanted to call it swordbending but that's not something Zuko would say), Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Lu Ten is a good cousin, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Swordfighting, Swords, non graphic descriptions of burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Hawk/pseuds/Space_Hawk
Summary: Zuko was seven when he first held a sword and it wasn't long before he realized that nothing had ever felt more natural in his life.Or, Zuko and his dual dao blades.Inktober Day 5: Blade
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko
Series: Inktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950592
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	The way of the sword

**Author's Note:**

> TW in the end notes.

Zuko was seven when he first held a sword. 

He had been wandering the palace grounds early one morning when he had come across Lu Ten practicing in one of the gardens. The early morning sunlight glinted off the blades as he watched his cousin stab and slash and twirl, graceful as a dragonfly hummingbird. 

Zuko watched in fascination, entranced by the effortless and smooth motions of the swords gliding through the air. 

“Would you like to try?” His cousin asked a few minutes later, finally noticing his audience. 

Eyes wide, Zuko stared at the twin swords being offered to him. His father always said that swords were only suitable for non benders, hence why Lu Ten used them. He said that it would be cowardly and shameful for any firebender to use steel when they had the power of fire.

But still, there was something drawing Zuko to those blades. He tentatively reached his hands towards them.

The leather grips were worn, but the sharp steel was freshly polished and sparkled in the sunlight. Picking them up, he found that they felt well-balanced and fit perfectly in his hands. As if they were meant for him.

Giving them an experimental twirl, Zuko couldn’t contain the smile that was growing across his face. With a laugh, his cousin spent the next hour teaching Zuko the basics and he soon realized that nothing had ever felt more natural in his life.

The forms, as basic as they were, came easily to him. Much more easily than firebending ever had. 

Zuko wished this moment could last forever, but like all great things, it was taken from him too soon. His cousin had other duties to attend to and it was time for Zuko’s morning firebending practice.

He thought that would be the end of his swordsmanship training until a few days later when he returned to his room to find a package on his bed.

Within it, Zuko found two beautiful dual dao blades and a short note from his cousin. 

_Dear Prince Zuko,_  
_I noticed how much you enjoyed our sparring the other day and figured a natural swordsman like you would enjoy a pair of blades of your own. Treat them well for they were made by the legendary Master Piandao. Perhaps one day you’ll even be able to train under him as my father knows him well._  
_Your cousin,_  
_Lu Ten_

Zuko could barely contain his excitement. It took all of his restraint to keep him from rushing to show his mother and Azula, but as much as he wanted to show them, he knew these blades would have to be his little secret. He knew his father would take them from him if he ever found out.

So instead, Zuko picked up the swords and ran through some of the forms that Lu Ten had taught him. If it were possible, these felt even more perfect in his grip than Lu Ten’s had and he effortlessly completed the form. 

It wasn’t long until he had lost himself in blades, practicing long into the night before exhaustion finally forced him into bed.

This quickly became a pattern. During the day, Zuko would practice his firebending, where he struggled to complete even the most basic forms and fell further behind Azula every day, but at night, Zuko would take out the swords he kept hidden under his bed and lose himself in the calming, repetitive motions of swirling and stabbing and slicing. It was exhausting, but it was freeing. He had finally found something that came naturally to him. Something that felt right.

A year later, his cousin surprised him. With his father gone for a few days to visit one of the Fire Nation colonies, his cousin had declared that they were going on a “weekend boys’ trip” to Ember Island and no one had questioned it.

But really, they travelled to the town of Shu Jing for Zuko to train under the legendary Master Piandao. Apparently his uncle knew the man and had convinced him to train Zuko, just like he had with Lu Ten years prior.

Those few days spent training with Master Piandao were some of the best in Zuko’s life. He couldn’t remember a time when he had felt so happy and carefree. Even Master Piandao was impressed by how far Zuko had progressed in such a short time.

But, at the end of the third day, he knew they had to return to the palace. And so, Zuko resumed his routine. Firebending during the day. Sword fighting at night. 

This worked for a time, but gradually, as more days passed, the less time Zuko had to practice with his blades.

His firebending training got more intense and he still struggled to keep up, continuing to fall even further behind. As his father’s disappointment grew, he was pushed harder, sometimes being forced to practice late into the night under the strict eye of his instructors until he finally mastered a form. 

But Zuko still cherished those rare days when he would have time to take out his swords and secretly practice in the dead of night, the only sounds being the slice of steel through air. Those were the only times when he really felt like himself. When he felt free.

Then his uncle and Lu Ten went off to war. And everything changed. 

In the days following his father’s coronation, Zuko threw himself into his swordsmanship training. Any spare time he had would be spent locked away in his room thrashing away at the air, letting all of his pent up emotions- anger, confusion, grief - spill out of him as he practiced.

He thought it would be fine. That no one would notice.

He was wrong.

“What are these,” his father hissed, voice hard and cold as he dropped the twin dao blades on the table one morning at breakfast. 

Zuko was too stunned to speak, his heart racing.

“Well?” his father snapped and Zuko felt himself flinch.

“They were a gift from Lu Ten.” Zuko finally managed to get the words out, his voice small as he looked fearfully from the blades to his father. 

“I thought I made myself clear that no child of mine would use such a coward’s weapon.” His father loomed over him as he shrank further back in his chair. Azula, who sat silently next to him, hadn’t moved a muscle, her eyes wide with interest for what would happen next. “As disappointing as you may be, you are still a bender. It will serve you well to remember that,” his father growled, grabbing his wrist and dragging him away from the table.

Zuko felt his fingers burning into his exposed skin, but he didn’t cry out. Didn’t try to pull away. He knew that would make it worse.

Finally, they reached one of the palace gardens - the same garden where Lu Ten had first taught Zuko sword fighting, in fact, and his wrist was released. Even without looking Zuko knew there would be red welts where his father’s fingers had been.

“Bend,” his father ordered.

And so, Zuko went through his forms. 

“Again.” That was the only word that came out of his father’s mouth when Zuko had finished. 

So, he did his forms again.

This went on for hours. As soon as Zuko had finished his set, his father immediately ordered him to do it again. He could feel his body shaking and his tongue was as dry as sand. 

The sun had almost set by the time Zuko’s body gave out on his. His legs buckled as he attempted to perform a kick, taking him face-first into the ground.

“Pathetic.” His father’s voice was full of disgust as he stalked away, leaving Zuko to shakily push himself to his feet, feeling dizzy and disoriented from dehydration and exhausted.

For the next two years, Zuko refused to let himself think about his swords.

Then there was a war meeting. A challenge. A beg for mercy. A fiery hand on his face. Burning. Pain. 

And everything changed again. 

“What are these?” Zuko asked, his voice harsh as he stared at the twin dao blades now hanging from the wall of his room.

“I found them at the market while we were docked today. I figured you might appreciate them seeing how much you used to enjoy sparring with Lu Ten,” his uncle replied.

“Swords are a coward’s weapon,” Zuko said sharply, his father’s words ringing in his ears. A flash of pain momentarily crossed his uncle’s face, bringing with it a pang of guilt, but Zuko ignored it as he turned back to the map on his desk. “I want them gone.”

The left side of his face had begun to throb again and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. His uncle left the room without another word.

They had been on the _Wani_ for six months. Meaning it had been six months since his banishment. Six months since the Agni Kai. 

And it still hurt.

The burn had healed, but it still hurt, throbbing whenever his temper flared. Not to mention he still couldn’t see or hear out of that side of his face, which had initially made things as simple as walking difficult. But he had adjusted.

Last week he had finally felt ready to try firebending again, but the sight of flames in his uncle’s hands had been enough to send him into a full blown panic attack. 

Frustrated with how weak that all made him feel, he had thrown himself back into his hunt for the Avatar with renewed vigor. Every waking moment was spent planning and strategizing about where he would find the Avatar. He ignored the blades hanging on his wall.

But at night, he could feel their presence. It was as if they were calling to him. 

He had asked for them to be removed several times and yet they still hung on his wall. He suspected his uncle had something to do with it, but he couldn’t afford to be distracted. He had to find the Avatar.

So he ignored them. 

But each night it became more difficult. He felt drawn to them. Just as he had when Lu Ten had first offered them to him. Their presence became stronger and stronger until he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

In the dead of night he grabbed the swords off his wall and made his way to the upper deck. 

The dark made it even more difficult for him to see, so he began slowly, moving through the most basic forms. 

There were a couple times where he stumbled, almost impaling himself with one of his swords, but slowly the motions came back to him.

With the ship rocking beneath his feet and an icy sea breeze whipping around him, it wasn’t long before Zuko fell into a rhythm, once again losing himself in his blades. 

He continued this for hours, until the first hints of sunlight began to pierce the black of night. Then he slipped back into his room and returned the blades back to their place on the wall, silently thanking his uncle for bringing him a peace he hadn’t felt in years.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Non-graphic description of child abuse and burns.
> 
> Wow. I did not mean for this fic to be nearly as long as it ended up being (especially since I had other work I was going to do tonight), but it got away from me. I'm honestly not super happy with the way it turned out because I think with more time it could've been better, but here it is. (I also apologize for the shitty title lol). As always, kudos and comments are appreciated :)


End file.
